Can't Sleep, Won't Sleep
by CretianStar
Summary: 50 reasons to have sex Challenge. Sherlock knows the science... Lemon, with a smidge of plot!


A/N: Well hell why not. 50 reasons to have sex challenge. Boom

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Because you can't get to sleep.

A vibration. What. No. She's just gone to sleep, Molly was going to kill whoever was ringing her. Probably her mother. It persisted. She'd let it go for now and eventually her phone fell silent. Then it started up again. Groaning very loudly, she unstuck her eyelids wincing at the sunshine outside. Oh god it was daylight and she was awake.

Bloody night shift. She hadn't done them in a couple of years but had offered while Moira was on maternity leave, well she'd taken it up when her boss as good as ordered her. Grumbling Molly blindly reached for her phone, corneas still blinded from the rare sunlight and pressed the button to her ear.

"Molly, Molly where are you, it's ten am your usual shift and you're not here."

"Sherlock Holmes, use your god damn deduction skills and work it out." She groaned at the baritone voice before cutting off any reply by hanging up on him. Burying her head in the pillows she felt sleep overtake her once more and she blissfully dropped off. When she woke there was someone next to her.

She screamed, reaching for anything hard, damn only pillows and beat the invader around the head with them.

A crisp rich voice stopped her.

"I thought you only had pillow fights at slumber parties." His sarcasm made her stop and glare at him. "I came over to wake you but you have two hours until work and you woke naturally but I have been somewhat unable to sleep recently." Sherlock said, standing upright from the bed. He was fully clothed and Molly's mouth hung open as her newly woken brain struggled to digest the information.

"What?" She gurgled unintelligently and stared at the man puzzled.

"Oh for Christ's sake Molly." Sherlock was an imposing figure in the darkness of the room. "I worked out you were on night shift after our brief conversation and I decided to come to yours and hope that you would still come in and help me on a case. I arrived here at about eleven and you were practically comatose so after checking your vital signs I laid and waited until you woke up. By twelve thirty I was bored so I rummaged, did you know you only have chick flick books, woman you're a doctor read something else and I decided I was somewhat lacking in female literature and started to read." Molly still felt somewhat behind from his very rapid speech and then he started talking again. "I read your latest, the one about a Mr Grey and now it has made me somewhat… fidgety." Sherlock himself seemed surprised by his latest admission and fell silent quickly. "Dinner?" He disappeared from the room.

"Okay wow." Molly whispered before darting out of the bed and chasing him into her kitchenette. "Sherlock! Are you telling me you couldn't sleep so you read porn?" She quirked an eyebrow and was amazed to see him blush, his eyes determinedly staring at a spot just above her left shoulder. Then she realised why – she slept in a top and knickers. At first she was mortified, letting out a cheep of embarrassment before something stopped her – Sherlock got horny. Her thoughts snowballed as she realised the emotionless detective was transferred his arousal onto her and well if that wasn't a pretty soldier trying to stand to attention.

"That is not the point, I will accompany you into the lab." He brooked no discussion and sat himself down on her sofa, wrapping himself tighter in his Belstaff. Molly was briefly astounded at the turn of events but said nothing. She felt bizarrely brave and despite the rest of her screaming, 'put some clothes on hussy' she strolled into her kitchen in her sleepwear and organised a brief dinner for herself, after asking a monosyllabic Sherlock if he wanted any.

Eating her lasagne, Molly dished up a second portion leaving it on a plate and put the rest in cool boxes to freeze before announcing her intention to shower. She felt thoroughly naughty as she slipped into her bedroom and picked up a towel from the radiator next to her bed. Something stopped her from picking up her clothes and Molly smirked. Her bathroom door was in the lounge where Sherlock rigidly sat and Molly doggedly kept from looking at him as she opened the door, pulling the hem of her t-shirt up, she disappeared into the tiny room shutting the door with a click and smothered giggle.

She came out in just her towel, wet hair loose around her shoulder and smiled innocently at Sherlock was staring at the TV, the plate of lasagne empty but in the same place. Shaking her head, she obstructed his view of an Eastenders rerun and grabbed her hairdryer.

"Back in a bit." She said absently and closed her bedroom door, feeling the blush rise in her cheeks. What audacity she had. It was a shock to her system what she just did but she felt so unbelievably naughty. Spotting the book on the bedside table, her own bookmark not moved she managed to find where Sherlock had read up to, further than her of course but the book was creased open ah something about love balls. Molly sniggered and shut the book again; it really was trashy and the word mummy porn made her stomach roil in disgust. She dressed quickly, realising she was running a little later after taking too long in the shower and ran the dryer over her hair speedily, pulling the damp strands into a bun. Sherlock was ready and stood as she came out of her bedroom and said nothing the entire tube journey there.

He was quick to the point and she rolled out the corpses he wanted before settling down to her routine work and the files of forms to be completed. She was used to leaving Sherlock in her morgue while he examined bodies and he had gone by the time she returned to the fridge room. No doubt he would come back with some cutting comment about her antics in her flat this evening and she mentally prepared herself for it all night, but Sherlock didn't return and Molly sucked up the strange empty bitterness that was left behind and made her way home at half four. Hailing one of the cabs waiting outside Molly stumbled into her flat fifteen minutes later and laid on her unmade bed fully dressed. Groaning, she smelt like work, a quick scrub later and she was back on top of the covers her mind wandering.

She knew her body clock wasn't quite working out with the night shift yet; it was still in transition but her mind was fully awake and regretting her actions with Sherlock. Getting up she pulled on the thin summer dressing gown – silk kimono from Japan, a gift from her mother's cruise – and turned on her TV. She flicked aimlessly through her recorded programmes and settled on a Roman documentary but didn't really pay attention; her body was exhausted but her mind was still raring.

"Molly." She screamed and hurled the remote at the shadowy kitchen, hearing it collide with the counter and possible the kettle and a huff of breath. "Really?" The voice grumbled and Sherlock stepped from the dark.

"IT'S CALLED A DOOR SHERLOCK!" She yelled and glared at the detective.

"I can't sleep. Neither can you. I have a cure for it." He said abruptly and Molly stared at him, suspicious of his plans. He walked over to her in three long strides and pulled her upright. He kissed her hard and the air was stolen from Molly's lungs at his sudden behaviour. She did nothing for a second and suddenly kissed him back. Her hands went from being limp at her side to pulling on his hair, drawing him down while his own hands lifted her small frame slightly, pulling her onto her tip-toes.

Molly didn't say anything as they drew back for much needed oxygen, the heavy coat was unceremoniously thrown to the floor, his scarf relegated to the pile, Sherlock grabbed her hand and tugged her into the bedroom. She cringed slightly at how messy it was but then his hands were everywhere again.

"Sherlock." She suddenly regained her vocal control. He didn't stop throwing her onto the bed and lying on top of her, his teeth bit at her neck. "Why are we doing this?" She gasped as teeth scraped at sensitive skin. She found her fingers undoing the dark blue shirt, and scratching lightly at the pale expanse of his chest, earning a whine from the tall detective.

"Because." He took a deep breath when her nails scored a little deeper. "because sex releases serotonin and opioids, it also…" He paused as she undid his belt. "It also shuts down the male cerebral cortex." His words died off in a hiss as she pulled the belt from its loops and tossed it to the floor. Her fingers were uncommonly dextrous as she worked the button on his trousers and they were sliding down his hips before he could really register. 'It's the fatigue.' Sherlock told himself and then all thoughts vanished as her hand hesitantly cupped him. "Molly." He let out a strangled groan and fought to regain control over himself and her. He pulled at the silk tie keeping that scandalously short kimono closed and whined as it revealed she had nothing underneath.

His eyes trained on her breasts and they glanced once to see her eyes fluttering shut, his mouth fastened to one nipple, drawing a cry from her and her nails bit into his ribs as he laved the pink bud with his tongue. His fingers sought the apex of her thighs and she squirmed beneath him, squeals and squeaks erupting from her panting mouth as he nibbled slightly and pressed at her wet folds.

"Sherlock. Stop teasing." Molly growled, eyes snapping open. She pushed him back, much to his surprise and knelt with him; the shirt was practically torn from his lean body and she managed to hold the surprise factor enough to roll him over onto his back. The trousers were tugged down his ankles, he kicked them off and Molly straddled him and wondered what to do next. Hoping her inadequacies didn't show, she moved her hips experimentally, her petite hands keeping him pinned to the bed. Sherlock's breathing quickened and his hips rose to meet hers, her kimono had gapped open and Sherlock reached it up to slide it down her shoulders, her rhythm briefly interrupted as those sinful fingers brushed against her breasts and he smiled at her. She whined as the kimono landed somewhere on her bedroom floor and Sherlock suddenly flipped them. He pressed against her centre and Molly moaned into his mouth.

"Please." Her gaze didn't break from his and she knew what he was waiting for. Pressing on his shoulder lightly, he allowed her to roll on her stomach and rummage in the drawer next to her bed. Pulling the blue packet out she tossed it at him and made to roll back again.

"Stay." He ordered, hand pressing to her back and Molly remained, slightly puzzled but oh so horny on her front. She heard the tear of the foil wrapper and then felt his arm slip beneath her hips, a pillow went beneath her stomach and his fingers played with her again.

"Sherlock." Her voice was a murmur and she didn't have to beg again as she felt him push at her entrance. Jesus, her body almost panicked at the size of him but he was slow and gentle as he pushed into her. Then suddenly the pace was too slow, he was too careful with her and she wanted more. "Sherlock." Her commanding tone made him stop. "If we're going to wear each other out, you best fuck me." She heard him chuckle but he complied with her wishes and sped the pace up. She had no idea where those words had come from but god they worked. He pulled her up on her hands and knees and she started to moan louder and louder, uncaring of her neighbours as he pounded into her. Without warning he withdrew and pushed her onto her back, sheathing himself once more in her warmth and earning a slight scream as a result.

Molly could now see every smirk on his face, but also the slight slack jawed nature of his expression, she could also tell he was reaching his peak and thank god so was she.

"Molly please." He grunted into her neck, his fingers suddenly strumming on her clit and sweet Jesus if she didn't see stars. Suddenly his pace was erratic and disjointed and then he collapsed onto her, the pair gasping for air, sweat sticking to them as he rolled off her. She panted hard.

Wow. Sherlock. That… she couldn't formulate the words to compliment him. She heard him stuff the condom into its wrapper and wrap in a tissue from the box beside her bed before lying next to her, starfishing on her bed.

"We should get under the covers." There was a slight quiver in his voice that gave him away and Molly could only nod, pulling her aching body beneath the duvet and resting her head back on the pillow. "Goodnight Molly." She heard him whisper and she rolled over to say goodnight to him. She was surprised to see him staring at her, eyes already half shut. She leant over impulsively and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Night Sherlock." She murmured and rolled away again, stopping a chuckle when he shifted closer and closer until they were spooning. "You're right. It does help you sleep." She yawned, allowed his arm to pull on her stomach and dropped off pretty quickly.


End file.
